The Price To Pay
by LovinEvil
Summary: A short but sweet oneshot about the problems HG and DM encounter because of the people around them.


**Copyright:** All Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling and not me.

**The Price To Pay**

"Stop it," he said coldly. His face didn't look beautiful anymore, but hard, as if a drawing etched into marble. His cheekbones were now harsh against the bright light of the fire, his lips full but stiff, but the prominent change was still the eyes. They were cold and flat. His whole face, body, and mind were closed off. She wanted to shiver when she looked into his mercury eyes. She wanted to draw away from his cold countenance.

Her hands hung limp next to her sides before she lifted one and led it, trembling, towards his shoulder. She looked at her hand. It wasn't finely shape, only practical. Her nails were short, squarely cut, and rough through hard work. It shivered slightly, as if cold… but she knew it were the nerves. Her fingers stretched slightly as her fingers made contact with the woolen sweater he was wearing. She could feel his muscles tensing, and wasn't even surprised when he shrugged away her hand and turned towards the close-by fire.

He tightened his grip on the glass of brandy he was holding. The amber liquid sparkled happily in the glow of the fire, and he looked at it disinterestedly as he swirled it around in the crystal-cut beaker. The two ice cubes tinkled softly against the glass, and the sound felt louder due to their silence.

She opened her mouth, hesitating to break the awkward silence before slightly clearing her throat. "But why?" she asked softly, talking to his back with her head hanging, her posture slumped. "Why do you always follow his orders so easily? He's a killer, a murderer, and still you respect him. Yet still you'd-" she blinked and broke off before starting again, "Yet you'd still… sacrifice me," she ended even softer than before, determined not to cry.

"Yet still, you'd push me away. Do you even love me? Do you?" she asked, her voice rising with each syllable. She looked up, and her angry eyes met his back. Her hands didn't hesitate this time, didn't tremble, when they grabbed his shoulders, turning him around. Angry eyes met passive ones as she shouted, **"WHY ARE YOU SO WILLING TO THROW YOUR LIFE AWAY FOR HIS?"**

"I thought…" she said, lowering her voice, "I thought you loved me." Her hands clutched his shirt pathetically as she whispered, "I thought we were made for each other. I thought we'd never leave. Never break away." She said, her hands suddenly weak as they slid over his vest and fell to her side.

He pulled away, turning around before whipping back around, angrily throwing his glass against the wall. "Dammit Hermione," he cursed. "Do you think I want to do this?" he asked angrily, frustration marring his features.

She laughed hollowly. "Want to? Why else would you step on my heart, rub it into the floor with your sole, and then pick it up and throw it in the trash?" she said hysterically. "Why would you follow that piece of trash? Why? Why in godsname?" she hysterically shrieked while he stiffly walked to the door.

He stopped at the door, sneering, "You would never understand with your perfect family!" he spat out. "There are rules to follow, and the consequences are too heavy for me to carry," he said softly, almost forlornly before narrowing his eyes again. "Just leave me alone," he said menacingly, slamming the door as hard as he could as he left, storming away.

"**I HATE YOU DRACO MALFOY," **rang through the hallways, full of misdirected hate. Hermione was heaving, as if it had cost too much energy to shout out that accursed phrase. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she walked backwards, as if wanting to distance herself. Her eyes were horrified as she sunk to the floor, her back to the wall. She wanted to faint, curse, heave, but her body wouldn't let her. All she could do was look horrified at her perfectly clear surroundings.

When the fire had died, and all that was left were the glowing coals, she started moving. Her body was cold and stiff, but she couldn't feel anything. She had gone into a sort of emotional shock, her mind far away from her body, which was moving towards the glass shards. She didn't even feel the glass cutting in her skin as she picked them up.

Her eyes looked almost fascinated as she saw the blood run from her hand and drip slowly on the floor. She threw that piece away, and slowly picked up a bigger one. The glass hovered inches from her wrist as the tears ran down her cheeks. Would she? Could she?

She blinked away her tears, and seeing the glass so preciously close to ending her own life, she hastily took it away. _Furious_. She was furious with herself. Her hand tightened around the glass shard, blood flowing as she cut her palm. _Weakling._

She threw away the glass shard and walked away. Even if there were tears, and blood spattered on her hands, she would not look back. If you looked close, you could even see her eyes hardening, the beautiful cinnamon color becoming flat and dull. What a price to pay for a broken heart.

-+-

**AN:** Yes, this is a one-shot crappy piece of literature.

When I first thought of the idea, I wanted to write something so moving that the reader would cry. And this is just… crap.

Read and Review please! Than I can at least get some help to improve my fics.


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